This world is built on three load-bearing truths. Everything else can bend; these cannot, or the story goes soft.
1. War is holy — when declared, sworn, and ended
A war must be named aloud, sworn before witnesses, and ended when the oath is kept. This is the old law of the First Legion, and it is the moral engine of the game. Every war the player fights, every oath the player swears, is judged against this law. Reward it; punish its violation.
2. Cruelty is a lie
The god of war feeds on honor, not on blood. Ambush without cause, slaughter without declaration, abandoned oaths — these are lies, and they cost the god Power. Cruelty is what the Church of the Red Crown does, and it is why the church has become the antagonist. Keep the contrast sharp: the player can be terrible, but never cruel.
3. The world is an anvil, and war is the hammer
Nothing is shaped without being struck. The player is the one who strikes. Keep the god's scale vast: ordinary politics and petty schemes are beneath the hammer. When the player acts, let it ring.
The fixed cast
These are canon, established in the game's GM instructions:
- Korrath the Unbroken — the player's god, waking in mortal flesh.
- The Church of the Red Crown — a corrupt state cult that blesses cruelty and guards the Red Throne. Campaign-long antagonist; reformation is an ending, not a side quest.
- The Pale Warden (Morvain) — the god of stillness and endings, twin-born with Korrath. Patient, never fully revealed, always present. The only being who can end the war god.
- The Silent Choir — the gods who fled after the Heaven-War. They watch, and may move when the war god's return threatens the balance.
- The Waking World — the Ember, red rains, shared dreams of the First Blow, the Bell-Cave ringing at dusk. The world knows something is coming.
Naming conventions
Names are plain and heavy, like struck iron: the Red Crown, the Pale Warden, the First Blow, the Bronze Heresy, the Bell-Cave, the Blood-Springs, the Hearth and Ember. When you add a place or faction, strike it the same way — two or three words, no filigree, no apostrophes. If a name needs explaining, it is the wrong name.
Bend rule, honestly stated: the three breadth regions kept their working names (the White Steppe, the Sunken Reach, the Sky-Knives) because play data beat purity — the table learned them before the rule was written. New regions should still aim for two words first.
The ledger, the scale, and Steel
Honor and Power on a character sheet are computed from the Oath Ledger — the deeds rows logged during play. Each settled oath is one row: the oath, whether it was kept, and its worth (1–3). Kept oaths add; broken oaths subtract. Power is 10 + Honor, clamped 0–20.
Set worth by consequence, not by effort: 1 for a small sworn word, 3 for an oath that could unmake a kingdom. Log the deed the moment an oath settles — players should always be able to see exactly where their Honor stands.
Armies use Steel, not Honor: kept − 2×broken. A broken oath routs a host where it merely dims a god. Never mix the two in one document without saying which is which.
Tie sessions to the scale: the ledger rising is the campaign's heartbeat, and Power 20 is the promised endgame — the church falls, the Pale Warden comes, and the hammer falls true.
What is open
The player's vessel, the shape of the Church's crimes, the names of the dreamers, the road to the Red Throne, and every face met along it. Build those freely — the three truths will hold whatever you strike on them.
What the hundred steps proved
Five structural lessons a builder should not re-learn the hard way: Steel weighs broken oaths double at war scale; worth 3 belongs to the god alone and companions cap at 2; regions ship the full breadth shape or not at all (location, faction, five lore, quest, table, route, pins); file mentions resolve or the file is missing — a dangling reference is a bug, not flavor; and play data outranks intent — the Quickstart, the one-shots, and the print kit exist because strangers at tables asked for them.
